


You Left My Trust On The Firing Line

by revenblue



Series: [collection] Dwampyverse Salt Mine [3]
Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: 'Professor Time' is Not My Heinz, 'Professor Time' is Successful(tm) and his mother is proud, 'Professor Time' lost his toy train and things started working out for him, Abuse, Blood and Gore, I cannot in good conscience tag this as PNF, M/M, Murder, POV Second Person, Spitefic, based on hearsay of how season 2 ended, everything about the concept of 'Professor Time' disgusts me, mostly alluded to but it's there, unflattering comparisons to Doof-2 and Heinz's mother, yeah I'm going there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 03:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19123699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revenblue/pseuds/revenblue
Summary: Now that he'ssuccessful, he doesn't have the time for you, or anyone not mindlessly grovelling at his feet to worship thegreat Professor Time.





	You Left My Trust On The Firing Line

**Author's Note:**

> [White Noise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlitEk_pJt0) by (two thirds of) Linkin Park perfectly encapsulates both this fic and what I want to say to Dwampy about MMLs2.
> 
> It's also where I got the title from.

He's on the phone when you arrive, directing people with boxes around this new home he's found for himself with one of his large hands while he talks. The sight of him smiling puts you at ease, even without being directed at you.

"Have you found it yet, Mother? Yes, I _know_ you say you mailed it to me _years_ ago, but I can't _find_ it- Oh, Perry the Platypus is back, I'll talk to you later." Pulling the phone from his ear, he pushes a button and slips it into a pocket, turning to face you. "I bet you're wondering what that _phone call_ was about," he says, in lieu of a greeting. "It was a few days into _autumn_ , when I decided to go through all my old _junk_ , you know how it is. And that's when I realised. You see, there was this one toy train I had as a child-"

Oh fuck no.

Walking through the large house, he gestures for you to follow. So you do. "I can't believe I _lost_ it," he continues, once you're away from the hired movers and into the maze of hallways. "I hadn't thought about it in _years_ , it should have been there! So, anyway, I couldn't find it, even though I _know_ I didn't throw it out, and... wouldn't you know it, my whole life turned around! Everything started coming up Heinz. I saved the world, became Professor Time... _Mother_ called _me_ , for the first time in _ages_ , to tell me she was proud of me!"

And Vanessa called the number you'd given her over the summer, to tell you she was worried about him, you don't - can't - say. Not that _he's_ ever listened.

"And with that money you gave me - thanks for that, by the way - I called up _Francis_ and told him you were working for _me_ now. He seemed quite happy with that, you know. I mean, with their _budget_... I even had him move all your things over. Welcome to your new home, Perry the Platypus!"

He.

Fucking.

**_WHAT._ **

Completely oblivious to your blazing fury, he claps his hands together and grins. "Isn't it great? Now we can be together _properly_. It was so _hard_ to _schedule_ things around your _job_ , I mean, before I, uh, yelled at you that one time-" That he never bothered to apologise for. "-but no hard feelings, right?"

_Yes_ hard feelings. You can't believe-

No. No, you _can_. That's what hurts the most, that he's knowingly stomped across your professional boundaries, that he doesn't - _won't_ \- regret it. Did you ever mean anything to him as a _person_? Or did he just like the _idea_ of you, and convinced you to go along with it because at least you'd felt like he talked _to_ you instead of _at_ you.

For fuck's sake, he's _Evil_. He may say he's reformed, but nothing _changed_ afterwards, except, well. That's why Vanessa called.

And you'd brushed her off. Chosen her father over her, over a young woman finding her place in the world. You'd thought he was better, albeit still needing a watchful eye to keep him in line, but _Good_.

Okay, no. No more lies. You'd just wanted to see him again, to hear him curse your name again. You fucking _missed_ him.

You _still_ miss him, because this isn't the Heinz you know. That much is obvious now.

This man in front of you may wear the face of your nemesis, but... but so did the other dimension Heinz Doofenshmirtz, who'd threatened your family, who'd apparently claimed to have merely lost a toy train.

Who was _given_ a toy train by _your_ Heinz.

Fuck, how did you not see it earlier? _He_ lost a toy train, _he_ stands up straight, _he_ orders you around like you'll obey. And you do. Did.

A growl erupts from your throat. Never again. _He_ is not your nemesis, not the defiant man you fell in love with, not a _father_ to his _children_. Vanessa hasn't spoken to you in weeks, to _him_ for even longer, and you can't remember the last time you heard anything about Norm. Too busy, you guess.

He's moved now, still talking at a Perry-shaped hole in the air, not bothering to look to see if you're still there following him. Because you _did_ , before. Before.

Thinking back, this change happened months ago. And you'd let it happen, seeing only what you wanted to, seeing the man you'd thought he was. The man he's not, and never was. The man who'd thought he had to fight you for any scrap of attention, who'd kept positive despite setback after setback, who'd been glad of a _friend_ , that's not - and never was - the true Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

You should have seen it. In the Second Dimension. During his sudden inator-given surface-level handsomeness. Every _fucking_ time he made it clear he'd turn his back on you as soon as anyone better came along.

Did you ever mean anything to him? Or were you just a convenient warm body?

Not that it matters. He's made it clear where you stand. Now that he's _successful_ , he doesn't have the time for you, or anyone not mindlessly grovelling at his feet to worship the _great Professor Time_.

Your stomach turns at the thought. How could you have been so damn _blind_? 

No, you know how. You'd seen him at his lowest, and thought every step forward was a step up. You'd looked at his inventions and thought _here is a man who could be great if only anyone gave him a chance_. So you did. Chance after chance, after he'd hurt you, pushed you away, blamed you for his own mistakes. More than he deserved, because after all, weren't you just as bad?

Turns out, no. You're not. Even when you'd made mistakes, you'd owned them. You'd apologised. You'd done what you could to make things right.

_He_ turned into his mother.

"Perry the Platypus?" he says as he walks back into the room, having apparently noticed the lack of you following. Fucking finally.

In the back of your mind, something snaps.

This isn't the man you'd thought you knew as well as any platypus could know anyone, the man you'd give everything for. This is the man who'd _used_ you, taken advantage of your feelings, let you think you still meant something to him, all the while basking in his own selfish worship.

You bet he fucking _loved_ it when you danced to his tune, doing whatever you could to get his attention back. But no more. Let everyone else suck his dick, you're done.

Narrowing your eyes, you bare your teeth in a snarl, muscles coiled and paw locked into a fist. How _dare_ he treat you like this? Like you're a fucking _pet_ , trained to obey without question. You get enough of that at your damn job.

Before he can react, you launch yourself at him, heart and body soaring through the air. There's a freedom in this, in not holding back, and your fist slams into the side of his face with a satisfying _crack_.

Even when he tries to run - crawl - away, you follow, kicking him onto his back and pressing your foot to his throat.

He swallows, throat bobbing against your ankle spur. "This is _sudden_ , Perry the Platypus. Can we _talk_ about your sense of _timing_? I don't even have my _safeword_ -"

You lean more of your weight on him, not quite enough to put the sharp point through his pale skin, and shake your head. The time for listening is over. He's talked enough for the both of you, now it's your turn.

* * *

He'd gone quiet by the end.

Not immediately, not when you'd raked your spurs across his skin, tearing open clothes and skin and flesh, pumping your venom into his veins. He'd screamed then. Begged you to stop, to let him go, to _listen_ , and you'd ignored it.

Blood covers your paws now, already drying into your fur, and you pull a face at the thought. Dreadful business, killing. Always makes such a _mess_. You can't wait to have a proper shower, scrubbing him off and washing him away down the drain, out of your life for the last time.

Turning away from the thing that used to be your nemesis, the nigh unrecognisable mass of twisted flesh and shattered bones, you close your eyes and exhale. You're free.

You're _free_.

Everything he'd asked of you, everything he'd convinced you to want, you're free of it all. Traps, too. Your tangled thoughts were a fucking trap of their own, binding you closer to him with every rationalisation you made, every compromise, but now you can see through it all to the truth. The bitter fucking truth, that all he ever cared about was himself.

When you open your eyes again, you feel like a new platypus. Your shoulders are lighter, your _heart_ lighter, the tension you'd lived with for fuck knows how long gone. Snuffed out with his life.

Raising your head high, you march from the room, not looking back. Why would you? The man you loved died a long time ago, if he ever existed at all, and any lingering remnants won't be found on the bloodied corpse of _Professor_ fucking _Time_.

You don't regret your actions here today, only the bridges you've let him burn for you in the past. Norm. Vanessa. Major Monogram himself. All sacrificed at the foot of a man who'd give you up without a thought, who'd let you down and demand forgiveness, who'd run around and desert you on a whim, who'd make you cry until you wanted to leave, who'd say goodbye so you'd beg him to stay, who'd tell a lie and hurt you.

Once you're outside, you lift your watch and tap at it with a claw. You have some calls to make.

**Author's Note:**

> So. I went on tumblr the other day. Saw a MML s2 screenshot. Was _instantly_ filled with disgust and rage (again), and ended up listening to White Noise for basically the next two hours (at full volume even) and rage-writing this until I had nothing left. Then I spent the next couple days editing.
> 
> People who follow my tumblr should already know what I think about MML and """""Professor Time""""" and the idea that Success(tm) is good for Heinz. For anyone who doesn't... tl;dr Heinz associates Success(tm) with "earning" his mother's love, Heinz chose his family (specifically Vanessa) over Success(tm) in LDOS, MML ~~lied to the audience about being a brand new show and~~ decided Heinz needed Success(tm) after all.
> 
> That's in addition to it hitting my "narrative denial of self-identity" squick. Like. That's the same sort of disgusting as misgendering, in my eyes. It's gaslighting, of the worst sort where the gaslighter is "proven" "correct" via browbeating their victim into not complaining any more.
> 
> In summary, fuck this plotline. Milo Murphy's Law only ever had one season, such a shame, all that wasted potential, would have loved to see the fallout of Dakota's secret timeclone island.


End file.
